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In a way, second chances don’t really exist. They’re a myth told once in a while to appease emotionally fragile people so they can look forward to new days instead of spiraling into depression.
I know he thinks he’s looking at his wife, and not me, but how lucky can a woman be to have a man look at her that way? Like he’ll destroy the world as long as she stays safe?
“Don’t you feel bad about him not being around more?” I ask. “No.” “Why not?” “Because Papa stayed with me when you were a ghost, Mommy.”
Emptiness is bad as fuck in my case. If I don’t occupy my mind, it’ll occupy me,
Any hope I had for him to call me by my name shatters and disperses in the background. It hurts worse than anything he’s done to me. Worse than the lashes of his belt and the slap of his hands. Worse than him depriving me of alcohol. Because at this moment, I realize that he’ll never see me. That, just like in the ballet, I’m only a shadow of someone else. An insignificant nobody.
If I’m numb, I won’t feel the sharp edges digging into my heart.
“You’re an awful liar, Lenochka.” “I’m not lying.” “That’s what all liars say.”
“I wish I’d never met you.” My lips brush against her forehead. “I’ll meet you over and over again if I have to.”
“Fuck, I missed you, Lia.” My whole body goes slack against him. Everything that happened tonight. His worry, his unbound passion, and even the way he’s nibbling on my skin and slightly rocking his hips were never meant for me. He doesn’t see me. He’s only seeing Lia.
That thought cuts me open so deep, a tear slides down my cheek, mixing with the water and falling down the drain. Because I know, I just know that he’ll never see me as Winter. I’ll always be Lia.
This woman is intoxicating. She crept under my skin and injected her black magic into my bones. Now, she’s the reason I breathe. I feel like if I stop touching her, if I let her go, she’ll disappear again. I’ll never have her again.
Her eyes meet mine, moisture gathering in them. They’re quiet, but defiant. Determined, yet sad, like a natural disaster that doesn’t want to ruin people’s lives but knows that it has to happen, anyway.
A replica of them. Possibly. After all, monsters can only birth monsters.
even I know that this phase will come to an end. That we both need to face our demons.
